no sex, no love

I can't feel the music
above all the noise
I can't lose myself in poetry
or a good book
or an ambitious dream

instead, I'm lost in endless madness
alone in my thoughts
as my only constant companion

I can't fall in love
for fear of hitting rock bottom
but I'm already there...
what have I to fear?

I want a man to love and spoil
or a woman to be lost in everything she is
but all I am is a walking heartache
and nothing but sickness in my loins
and for what?
a few nights of pleasure
with a whore?

I'm happy to have rediscovered myself
but now that I've found self-love
I want to love someone else again
but if they knew my secret
they wouldn't want me

just cast me aside
like nothing
and I want to give them what they want
but I can't